


my life is waiting for you, my heart is beating for you

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, College/University, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Karaoke, Meet-Cute, Mentioned Felix/Annette, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29670717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “I saw a pretty girl in need and figured I’d come to offer my help, if you’d like. It’s always a little easier to tackle your fears if someone’s beside you.”(Dorothea, Mercedes and an impromptu karaoke duet.)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Mercedes von Martritz, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12
Collections: Anonymous





	my life is waiting for you, my heart is beating for you

There’s a retro song blaring over the club’s slightly shoddy speakers, the spinning disco ball is illuminating the sparkling material of her red dress and Dorothea has truly never felt so at home.

Out of all the local clubs, there is a reason Abyss is regarded as the best by most of Fodlan’s students. For one, if you get on his good side, usually by beating him in an arm wrestle, the unruly bartender will serve you as much alcohol as you want, even if your ID is obviously fake.

Dorothea doesn’t come here to drink, however. That’s more Caspar and Hilda’s scene than her own. She likes the atmosphere of this place, a lot more than some of the sleazier underground spots in the neighbourhood, and the owner is a charming man who will playfully flirt and call her songbird with no ulterior motives. 

He’s at least a lot more fun to banter with than the men in the Serpent bar a couple of streets away, who had kept trying to get a hand up her skirt until she smashed a wine glass over one of their heads. Maybe it had gotten her kicked out and maybe she was banned for life, but it’s not like she’ll ever want to return there anyways. 

Abyss is just… nice. It, in the spirit of the city it sits in, is filled to the brim with charming new faces to spend the night with and Dorothea is in urgent need of some kind of distraction. Spending so much time preparing for the next major play of the season drained the life out of her.

Sleepless nights spent perfecting every little detail had left her with dark circles constantly etched beneath her eyes. They are a little lighter now, but even chronic workaholic Edelgard had taken one look at her and immediately called for an intervention. 

Which is why she’s here now, most of her dorm-mates having vanished from her sight as she sips on her cocktail. Bernadetta, ever the wallflower, has probably plastered herself into the corner to avoid all of the drinking. She can only guess that Ferdinand is somewhere in the crowd, making more connections. As expected, Linhardt hadn’t even bothered to get out of bed.

But she still can see Edelgard, sitting at one of the high-rise seats by the bar, one arm dragged over the counter. The woman isn’t exactly known for her height, hence the sharply cut heels decorating her feet, but she always manages to be imposing without it to aid her, the slick suit combined with her immaculately styled ponytail painting a professional picture. 

She’s engaged in a conversation with the woman sitting beside her, whose legs dangle even more noticeably off the ground compared to Edelgard’s, her hair a similar shade of white that falls loose to the dip of her back. Whoever the woman is, she’s making a fond smile grow over Edelgard’s usually sharp features and that is good enough for Dorothea.

“Good luck, Edie!” she mouths from a few feet away, casting a thumbs-up in Edelgard’s direction. Her approval is almost comical in presentation and she can see Edelgard become a little more disgruntled as she catches a glimpse of Dorothea’s teasing smile from the corner of her eye.

“Oh, who was that?” The shorter woman’s voice is a tad nasal, high-pitched and almost haughty, but there’s an openness to her face that suggests she is just curious. Dorothea slips behind a crowded table to hide herself and watches with glee as the woman leans closer to Edelgard, their knees almost touching. 

“Ah, that was just a friend of mine. Please, just… ignore her. But, as you were saying about the Sothis corporation-” Dorothea can’t help but roll her eyes as a ramble of numbers and statistics falls from Edelgard’s mouth, the woman’s inner business major finally rearing to the surface.

Dorothea stalks off further into the bustling club, not wanting to stick around for too long that it would be invasive of her. She’s not quite sure what to do, until she catches a glimpse of three people hanging around the nearby karaoke machine by the club’s sole stage. 

There’s a light-haired woman in the middle. Dorothea can’t quite see her face, but she can see the way her hands nervously twitch and her fingers twine together. A ginger woman stands before her, hands loosely curled around the other’s arms, encouraging her loudly to go up on stage. “Come on, Mercie! This is a perfect confidence-boosting exercise for you.”

Dorothea is surprised to see Edelgard’s step-brother, Dimitri, at the two women’s side, with a light, tipsy flush coating his pale cheeks. She’s never seen the usually prim and proper man so dishevelled. “Now, now, Annette,” he attempts to placate. “I assume Mercedes isn’t all that comfortable with such a big step.”

Ah, bingo. A situation that Dorothea can step into and find a pinch of fun in. Heels tip-tapping against the laminate floor, she keeps her smile open and friendly so as to not immediately scare the obviously anxious woman off. “Apologies for butting in, but if you’re uncomfortable going up on your own, perhaps I could join you?”

“Ah, Dorothea!” Dimitri exclaims, welcoming her into their discussion without complaint. “It’s nice to see you. I assume you’re here with Edelgard?”

“She’s a bit preoccupied,” Dorothea chuckles, gesturing over her shoulder to where Edelgard is still deeply captivated by whatever her companion is saying. She can see the minute realisation hits Dimitri, one eyebrow raising up slightly with a pleased smile gracing his face. “But you know Edie. Her special brand of ‘flirting’ is discussing tax fraud.”

Dorothea directs her gaze to the pale-haired woman who was clearly in need of a little bit of assistance and finds herself staring for a bit longer than is possibly necessary. The off-shoulder dress she’s wearing is comparatively modest to the glitzy and glamorous aesthetic of the club. The black fabric falls to her knees but highlights the curves she has in all the right places, the puffy sleeves dripping lace down her slender arms. 

Tearing her gaze away, Dorothea focuses on the considerably shorter woman beside her. There’s something strangely familiar about her, with vibrant hair and a rounded face and a voice that is distinctly cheerful. “Oh, the yummy yum girl!” Dorothea blurts out. “You must be Annette. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Ugh, does Felix tell that story to everyone he meets?” Annette groans, displeasure evident in the childish frown that turns down the corners of her mouth, the embarrassment turning her skin a concerning shade of red. “He’s really out to get me, isn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t worry, I’ve only heard good things about you! Really good things.” Dorothea isn’t sure how to break it to Annette that Felix’s often grumbled ramblings about her are rather sweet for a man who doesn’t know how to be anything but sour, so she moves on swiftly. “And this is?”

“Mercedes,” the woman murmurs, the smile on her lips so fragile, as if it could break under a single touch, but her eyes are sharp and filled with an unusual amount of wit. Her voice is sweet, yet not overly so, like the first bite of cotton candy before your fingers get too sticky.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mercedes. I’m Dorothea.” Dorothea allows her shoulders to relax and her smile to grow a little more genuine, the interest for this woman growing steadily in her chest as her heart begins to beat faster. “I saw a pretty girl in need and figured I’d come to offer my help, if you’d like. It’s always a little easier to tackle your fears if someone’s beside you.”

“Dorothea won Garreg Mach’s talent show last year,” Dimitri points out, oblivious to the small dusting of pink that scatters over Mercedes’ cheekbones. “I’m sure the crowd here would be desperate to hear your voice in person again, since your shows are selling out rather quickly as of late.”

“Oh, the opera singer?” Mercedes’ hand rises to rest over her mouth in a small show of shock, blue eyes blown wide. ”I couldn’t possibly go on stage with you. I’m afraid all the singing practice I’ve had is with the church choir.”

“Nonsense.” Dorothea waves away her concerns. Even if the woman is absolutely horrendous at singing, which Dorothea doubts given the already melodic lilt to her voice, karaoke is not meant to be about being good, it’s all about the mindless fun of screeching your lungs out. “If Dimitri has faith in your skills, then I’m inclined to believe him.”

The woman - Mercedes, Dorothea reminds herself, committing the name to memory - brushes some strands of her short hair behind her ear, chuckling softly. “Alright, alright,” she concedes. “I’ll try it out, as long as Dorothea is there with me.”

Butterflies begin to flutter in Dorothea’s stomach, a cliche sign of the budding affection. She tries to keep her smile stable, not wanting to grin too widely at such a simple event. “Of course. Let’s go then, shall we?”

Annette fumbles with the neon jukebox-shaped karaoke machine, scrolling through the list of songs with a contemplative edge to her gaze, until she lands on some cheesy, early-2000s pop song that isn’t exactly Dorothea’s usual style. 

“Break a leg out there, Mercie!” she proclaims, shoving microphones into their hands and ushering them up to the edge of the stage with evident enthusiasm. Dorothea glides up onto the stage easily, not even pausing to think before she offers her hand to Mercedes and guides her up the slightly steep stairs, revelling in the warmth of the woman’s skin against her own.

The club’s other music dims in volume, halting as the opening notes of their song begins to flow over the dance floor. Rows and rows of drunken eyes land on the two women standing at the front of the stage. Dorothea is used to this kind of invasiveness and handles it all with the graceful confidence of a born actress.

Mercedes, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be fairing as well. Her fingers tremble around the hilt of the microphone and Dorothea wants to reach over and pry it from her hands and maybe kiss her till they are both a little too breathless. Instead, she reaches over and tangles both of their free hands together, squeezing tightly in reassurance. 

Luckily, the lyrics on the screen that rests by their feet have already conveniently divided the song into a duet and Dorothea takes the lead easily, singing through the first few lyrics with a clear voice before she steps back and allows Mercedes to sing her own lines.

Voice wavering just slightly at the first note, the woman is clearly still nervous, but her voice is soothing, like a gentle cascade of comfort when everything feels like it’s close to breaking apart. She’s not a natural powerhouse, but something softer, her tone suited for lullabies in the dead of night when your head is pounding from staring at a computer screen for too long.

Dorothea is different, trained to capture the audience’s attention and drag them headfirst into an unexpected spectacle. The contrast between the two makes itself clear in even the small details as the spotlight glitters off the rubies dangling from Dorothea’s ears, blinding like the summer sun, but simply casts a warm glow over the planes of Mercedes’ face. Opposites attract, Dorothea thinks. It’s that simple.

As the song nears its close and Mercedes’ hand rests heavily in Dorothea’s grasp, she catches a glimpse of Edelgard and her thin fingers caught in one of the purple ribbons holding that woman’s hair in place. A wide smile involuntarily takes over her features and as a steady clapping rises over the audience, Dorothea can’t hold back the happy sliver of laughter that escapes her lips.

“You were great, Mercie! You too, Dorothea.” Annette calls out, practically bouncing in excitement as they exit the stage together, hands unfortunately separating as the club returns to normal. “I told you that you could do it.”

“Thank you, Annie,” Mercedes says fondly, fingers curling into the fabric around her stomach in a sheepish gesture. Dorothea wonders if the woman is not used to praise. If so, she’ll have to rectify that. Immediately. “But I’m nowhere near as talented as Dorothea here. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

“We make a pretty good team, wouldn’t you agree?” Dorothea smiles down at the woman, ignoring how her fingers twitch with the urge to link their hands once more. “Garreg Mach’s theatre department is always looking for new recruits, if you’re interested. That lovely voice of yours shouldn’t go to waste.”

“Oh, I could never!” Mercedes laughs, the white of his teeth shining through the small gap as her mouth opens in a dainty giggle. “Standing on stage in front of a crowd any bigger than this would simply be too much for me. I’d rather be singing lullabies to the children at the nursery. They’re a little easier to deal with.”

“Your performance together was wonderful,” Dimitri comments, but he’s got his phone tightly clenched in his hand and an almost pissed off look in his eyes. “But unfortunately, I’ve just received a call from Ingrid and it appears that Sylvain has made our dorms into a bit of a mess. Again.”

Dorothea can’t help but wince at the clear twitch in his brow, not sure whether to feel sympathy for Dimitri for having to put up with Sylvain’s bullshit, or pity for Sylvain who is probably about to experience that well-revered Blaiddyd wrath. “Sylvain never changes. And because of that, I’ll be forever glad I’m not in the Lion’s college.”

“We’ll have to head back then,” Mercedes sighs, looking disappointed. She takes a step forward towards Dorothea, rising up on her tip-toes as she presses her lips delicately against Dorothea’s cheek. Dorothea can’t help the warm blush that spreads across her nose, looking down into Mercedes’ soft eyes, the inch of height difference exaggerated by Dorothea’s platform heels.

“Thank you for singing with me,” Mercedes murmurs. “I hope we can perform together again soon. We always come here on the weekends.”

“I’d like to sing with you once more too,” Dorothea smiles. “So I guess I can make some time in my schedule. Just for you.”


End file.
